One Night with a King
by Haruno Enjeru
Summary: Oneshot. Susan ponders what her future could have been with Caspian had Aslan not sent all four Pevensie children back to London after the final battle. Based on the movie and not the books. Please rate & review!


_**A/N: It's been awhile (like... years) since I've published anything. I wrote this some time ago on a whim and figured I'd share! If you have a moment to review, please let me know what you think! - Evvie**_

* * *

A horn blared across the bustle of London's late morning rush, breaking the silence in Susan Pevensie's head.

"Watch it, lady!" a man in a pin-striped suit, driving an unpolished black Ford, shouted indignantly at Susan as she made to cross the muddy English street, nearly late to her grammar lessons because of Edmund and Peter's fight in the subway just minutes prior.

Minutes… or days.

Susan eyed the cab driver and waited just a moment before stepping away from its front, keeping her gaze pinned to the upset man as she lifted her chin ever so slightly. To his credit, he had the sense to look unnerved at her brazen reaction to his admonishing.

Walking down the cobbled street, Susan found that her gaze drifted, unfocused, so that it was easier to look back than it was to look forward. There were so many experiences she had expected out of Narnia, so many dreams that went unfulfilled because fate had somehow twisted in the nick of time.

She could almost see the future she would have had, had she been granted more time in Narnia...

* * *

Susan trailed a finger along ancient bookshelves of the royal library, smudging dust that had collected over centuries. Light shifted into the great room through vertical slits in tall stone walls, casting a warm morning glow over the decaying texts. Susan gazed upwards at the bookshelves that stood far above her height. The dust in the room shifted in her wake, and the smell of age-old books settled over the great room like a blanket.

A title caught her eye on the top shelf: _The Closet and the Door_. A memory flashed in front of her eyes as she beheld the scribbled letters on the binding of the worn, off-white and decaying pages. Days of peace and sunshine and gold flew past her eyes when she closed them, days where a young queen could pass her time penning the woes and trials of a period of tribulation and the glorious victory that shattered it. Susan gazed up at the long-forgotten title.

 _Pick me, read me, remember me_ , it seemed to say. Susan began to reach up to pull it from the curving shelf.

But – it had to be at least a dwarf's height away from where she stood. Susan dropped her hand and peered at the book a moment longer, caught up in memories of days of old spent with parchment and an inkwell, sitting on a sill of sunlight and listening to the ocean crash below.

A soft _creak_ echoed through the library, indicating someone had opened a door, breaking her mental memoir. Susan blinked up at the book she had no chance of reaching.

Susan heaved a sigh, irritated that these bookshelves were clearly made for tall men. "There has to be a stool somewhere here," she breathed under her breath as she broke from the manuscript's allure to look down the ancient aisle for a crate or something she could climb on. Her mind was still half occupied with memories of the months she spent writing those poems.

Seeing nothing, Susan let out the most unladylike curse she could think of and glared up at the old bookshelf before pulling out several think volumes at her level to use as a makeshift stool.

Teetering at the edge of seven or so books she had stacked, Susan reached up to touch the poem collection with one single finger, trying to pry it loose. She rose to her toes, reaching across the distance.

 _Ah_. Her shift in weight overbalanced the stack of books she stood on. Her feet slipped out from under her and she felt herself falling through the air, already irritated at the books' lack of cooperation and throwing her hands behind her to catch her fall –

– Right into a pair of golden, muscled forearms and a warm chuckle on the back of her neck.

"Not even a full week in my castle, and you are already making such a mess," rang out the deep baritone of the voice that belonged to the twin arms holding her up… Caspian. She wouldn't have been able to forget his honeyed accent even if she wanted to.

Susan scrambled to get her feet under her and whirled to face him, a blush staining its way across her face and over the freckles on her skin. Seeing his loose, one-sided smirk, she felt a flare of indignity rise within her.

"These books look as if they haven't been touched in centuries. Hard to make a mess when there is no one to see it," she retorted, refusing to succumb to his teasing.

His grin grew wider, but he quickly wiped it off his face and bowed his head slightly, ever the gentleman. Susan felt a small trail of warmth twist through her insides as his dark hair shifted over his eyes, curling at the ends. Some small voice inside her whispered that she had to admit he was the most beautiful male she had ever seen.

She squelched that voice.

"My uncle had this library closed off many years ago, to prevent our ruling lords from learning more about Narnia's history, lest they take it upon themselves to recall the Kings and Queens of Old," he spoke smoothly. "My… professor was the only one who dared to defy his order, under the guise that his profession dictated the pursuit of knowledge over all else. Because of his lack of political influence," Caspian shrugged, "my uncle allowed it, on the condition that his knowledge never reach me."

Susan peered at Caspian as he bent down to help her re-shelf the books scattered on the floor. "Well… did it?" she questioned, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Caspian stared at her for a moment, as if no one had bothered to ask before, then smirked, a lopsided upwards twist of his lips that had her mind wondering what else he could do with those wondrously full lips. _Go away,_ she told the little rebellious voice inside her _._ Susan could have sworn she heard it chuckle.

"Of course it did," he replied mischievously. "I was never much for following his rules, which is likely another reason he decided to…" Caspian paused, his grin fading. His eyes grew distant. "End things," he finished lamely.

She took a moment to let his words settle. "Any ruler who refuses the pursuit of knowledge is leading a dying nation," she said, more softly than she intended.

Caspian shifted his attention back to her. "Spoken like a true queen of Narnia," he responded, brushing some dust off her shoulder as they straightened, the books now resting on the grand bookshelf once again. He offered her an elbow and gestured down the hall. She peeked back up at her old diary and made a mental note to return for it when there were no kings to interrupt her wiles. Then, she straightened her spine and placed her hand in the crook of his arm, once more the dignified, withdrawn queen.

"Do you think you would consider it again?" Caspian's voice filled the space between them as they neared the end of the bookshelves and turned toward the door.

Susan peered up at him, and her confusion must have showed on her face because he clarified, "Ruling Narnia as queen, that is." A small brush of color appeared on his cheeks, but his gaze didn't leave her eyes.

Susan gazed up at him for a moment, a little lost in the significance of implication his question simmered with. She opened her mouth to respond and closed it again. Could she? Could she be queen of Narnia once again, ruling by the side of this strong and considerate leader?

* * *

Lost in thought, Susan nearly walked directly into the door of her grammar classroom. Still musing upon the future she could have lived, had Aslan not sent them all back to London so quickly, she quietly entered and slipped into her seat, waiting for the teacher to hush the classroom chatter and begin lessons.

As the class began to calm down, Susan watched the teacher turn and write a single word on the blackboard. Then, the teacher faced the class and rapped her pointing stick across her desk smartly to gain the students' abrupt attention. "Now, who can tell me the true meaning of the word "love"?

Susan raised her hand.


End file.
